Mirkwood
by 10 of Spades
Summary: When he fled, he was a dwarf. Now, he belongs to no race. When he ran, a blizzard was devouring them. Now, he is the only one raging. When he disappeared, he was Kili. Now, he doesn't have a definition.
1. Deep Red Patches of Snow

**Author's Note: So this is my take on the "character from The Hobbit gets raised in a different situation." Since my favorite characters are Kili, Thorin, and Thranduil, I decided to write an AU in which Kili runs away from home and ends up in the hands of the King of Mirkwood. Hoping that this will be pretty long. I'll try to update as much as I can, depending on the kind of response this gets. Consider it a pilot. Anyway, enjoy!**

**Deep Red Patches of Snow**

Thorin never thought he would see the day when Kili would have an arrow aimed at his forehead. Thorin never thought he was going to see Kili again. Thorin had tried to avoid thinking about Kili since the day he had fled from home. Yet, in the forest of Mirkwood, there he was, looking into his nephew's dark eyes, gaping at the dwarf he thought was long gone. He was barely aware that his mouth was hanging over, both in shock and horror, his voice somehow lost in his throat. His expression seemed to be mimicked in Kili's face, though his nephew looked almost repulsed at the sight of his long-lost uncle.

Thorin barely moved his arm to fight back against the other elven guards that poured from the trees around them, arrows also raised at the members of the Company, when Kili pulled his arrow further back, the bow now fully taut, face cold. "Don't move," he instructed. "If you think I will not fire then you are sadly mistaken." It was a tone that was unknown to Thorin. Kili had been a dwarfling when he had disappeared, but he had been just that: a dwarfling, a child. The dwarf that stood before him was almost unrecognizable outside his face and stature. Part of his hair was pulled into two braids that met in the back, the rest of it falling past his large shoulders. It was clear that he was trying to keep clean-shaven, but his chin and lower half of his face was covered in short stubble. Around his neck he wore a silver bead on a small link chain. Thorin recognized it immediately, the one he had given his nephew for the last birthday they celebrated together, the last day they spent together. It was engraved with a pattern that belonged to Kili and Kili alone, with his name in Khuzdul etched on top, along with his title as heir of Durin. However, that was where the familiar features ended.

He was dressed in a green elvish uniform, like the rest of the elves that surrounded them, though his was obviously tailored to fit him. His boots were sleek leather that clung to his feet and legs. Kili also wore a darker green cloak with the hood down, and carried a variety of elvish daggers, along with the bow and quiver. Everything looked wrong and mismatched. In a way he looked ridiculous standing beside his companions, but he commanded so much attention it was difficult to even question his presence.

"Kili!" The voice came from behind Thorin, and as he turned, he saw it belonged to another member of the guard, dressed the same way as Kili. She was an elf with fiery red hair and flashing bright green eyes. Standing next to him as a dwarf, she looked gigantic and elongated, like a tree that grew over a shrub. She cast Thorin a dry look, before rapidly speaking to Kili in elvish. He replied, speaking just as quickly, before giving Thorin a last once-over and addressing the whole group.

"Drop your weapons. Hand over anything that can be used as a weapon. We'll be taking all belts, sheaths, and shields. If you refuse, we will take them by force" The rest of the dwarves were staring at Kili with wide eyes too now. He shifted uncomfortably in their gaze, though recovered in an instant. "Try to resist, and the archers present in the trees and area around you will fire. From now on, you are in the possession of Thranduil, King of Mirkwood." His announcement caused The Company to erupt into loud voices and shouts. Kili himself lowered the bow, pulling the arrow back into his quiver in a graceful and lyrical movement that conflicted with his robust and square-like stature. Around him, the elves began searching the other dwarves. The red haired elf passed Kili an encouraging smile, before grabbing Fili by the coat collar, removing a pair of twin throwing knives. Kili grinned back, finally an expression that Thorin could recognize: the flash of happiness in the eyes, sheepish aura, and a look that could cause anyone to melt. The moment that the dwarf caught him staring, though, the smile fell off his mouth like a boulder off a cliff.

"Open you jacket," Kili demanded, his mouth a straight line as he made direct eye contact with Thorin, though nothing in the darkness of his irises gave off any sort of recognition.

"Kili, I-" Before he had the chance to say any more, he found that his legs had been swept out from under him, and he landed on his back on the hard ground. Immediately, the rest of the dwarves were shouting, rushing forward only to be pushed back by the elven guard. Kili was towering over him, his nostrils flared and lips twisted.

"Don't call me by my name. You have no right." Though his spine was screaming, Thorin managed to stand himself up, now back and eye-level with him.

"I helped to choose your name. I have the right to use it." Kili's eyes widened, before narrowing into slits, examining every inch of Thorin.

"I know who you are," he scoffed, shaking his head. "Thorin Oakenshield, would-be King Under the Mountain." Something about his voice made Thorin flinch. "You own all the dwarves, don't you?" He was taken aback by this comment, not knowing how to respond. "I bet you pick all the names, just so they belong to you."

"I-I don't understand."

"Or maybe you just decided to claim you know me because I am a dwarf, and therefore your property, or to mock my upbringing" Thorin was gaping again. "But, I suppose no matter who I am, if given the choice you wouldn't actually put an effort into what I am called. If I was a gem however, that decision would be much more important to you. We have a name for you here, Oakenshield: he-who-loves-gold-more-than-"

"Kili," Thorin interrupted, reaching out his hand, why he didn't know. In a split second, he found himself pressed up against one of the gnarled trees, his nephew's arm on his throat. He was choking, only gasping noises escaping his mouth. The dwarves were enraged again, the elves visibly alarmed, though still doing their best to hold back the sea of enraged Company members. The red-haired elf rushed forward, but was stopped when Kili raised his other arm. His dark eyes were wild and furious, as he spoke a few choice words in elvish through gritted teeth. Thorin was able to make out the words "dwarf," "king," and "kill." He swallowed, trying to make a sound of any kind, when Kili turned back to taunt him again.

"If you even dare to attempt to speak with me again, I will not waste time killing you, or giving my uncle the satisfaction to kill you himself." The word uncle was the only one Thorin was able to hear. Instead of speaking, he just stared back, trying to shout with his eyes. "You disgust me." Kili whispered, so that only Thorin could hear, stepping back and ripping off Thorin's fur coat as he did so.

_"I never want to see you again! Ever! Leave me alone!"_

Thorin closed his eyes as Kili turned his back, walking back past the Company and his group of elves.

_"I didn't mean to! Kili, come back!" _

Thorin opened his eyes, and saw the dwarf pause, looking back over his shoulder. For a moment, he saw the child he had pushed away taking the final glance at his family before sprinting down the road and into the forest. For a moment, he swore a spark passed through Kili's face, before he continued to walk away.

"Tauriel," Kili called in a low voice. "Take them to the dungeons. Separate them. There is to be no contact between them. Scatter the placement." The red-haired elf nodded, seeming almost concerned.

"Where are you going?" Kili was already weaving away through the trees, once again moving with odd grace, but he stopped for a second, as if he hadn't thought about the subject.

"Back to Thranduil. He should know about this before they're presented before him." Tauriel pursed her lips, not letting her eyes leave him.

"Be careful. The spiders..."

_"It's dangerous out there! Kili!"_

"Don't worry about me." With that, he vanished into the madness of Mirkwood, and Thorin was left feeling as if he had been shot with that arrow. Tauriel said something in elvish, that he supposed was some sort of curse.

"Finish up," she instructed to the rest of the guard. "The faster the better." Thorin expected her to turn back to Fili, who was staring at the ground with wide eyes, a shell-shocked look at he hadn't displayed for over 50 years. However, Tauriel turned to Thorin, cautious, pulling off his vest.

"The king has been waiting for the day you'd turn up," she muttered, clearly making sure that the rest of her companions couldn't hear her.

"Has he?" Thorin growled in response, not meeting her watchful eyes.

"He wanted to show Kili off to you. I suppose you're the reason he kept him in the first place. Lucky, really." He didn't answer for a moment, puzzling out her vague comment. There was almost an odd hum in his brain, keeping him from properly focusing on anything.

"I don't follow." Tauriel sighed, before continuing.

"He was going to throw him out back into the forest until he saw the bead in his hair. The king seemed to think it would be amusing to raise your nephew as an elf." It was as if someone had taken a match to Thorin's temper, as it began to blaze and smoke.

"How am I lucky, exactly?"

"He's alive, isn't he?"

"You say he's a vessel for petty revenge between your king and I. What kind of life is that?" Tauriel's mouth quirked to the side.

"Well, in the beginning he was that. Now, it's different." Thorin's teeth were grinding out of his control, all the muscles in his neck completely tensed.

"That answer was very enlightening."

"You're fortunate I'm telling you any of this."

"Why is Kili not recognizing me? Or his brother? Or anyone?" She paused, yanking off his belt. The rest of the guards had finished their searching, now lining up the other dwarves. Tauriel's mouth became a straight line.

"From what King Thranduil tells me, it's better that he does not remember any of it, especially you." She pulled Thorin forward, her hand barely reaching his shoulders, forcing him to join the line. The other dwarves were murmuring to each other in hushed voices, all trying to move to look at Thorin as they began to walk forward. He wasn't paying attention, the hum in his mind growing to a full on roar. _"It's better that he does not remember any of it, especially you."_

_He had run after him, of course, Fili close behind. Dis had begun to come out of the house, her eyes shining with both tears and rage. Just a moment before she had been screaming. It hadn't taken long for that to turn into crying._

_ "Stay there!" He had called back to his sister over his shoulder, keeping a steady eye on both Fili, and the path Kili had taken. "He might double back!" At least, that's what he hoped, that Kili would run back to his mother, and not further into the forest._

_ It had been snowing, the white flakes blowing everywhere, clouding his vision. It was the first big storm of the winter months, just like the blizzard that had occurred the night Kili was born. Fili's bright gold hair had been the only distinguishable feature in the white chaos, as Thorin struggled to keep running through the snow. Their voices had been drowned out by the howling win, though both of them were shouting at the top of their lungs. Fili was beginning to panic, his strong voice breaking as he called out for his brother over and over, until the name lost its meaning._

_ They had searched for him for hours, as the blizzard died down while the sun rose. Fili was backed up against a boulder, sobbing into his knees, Thorin still trudging around the clearing, looking for footprints. The blizzard must have covered any signs of the child. Everything was still, eerily so, the only sound being that of the snow falling from the tree's branches to the covered ground. _

_ "Kili!" His voice was so broken now; it was barely a croak. "I'm so sorry." He leaned against a pine tree, finally letting himself cry for the first time, alongside the one remaining nephew he still had. _

_ At first, he had thought it was the wind again, the sound so high-pitched and terrible that it couldn't have belonged to anything living. Fili had looked up from his knees, face red and wet, shivering. Thorin didn't pay attention to it, until he heard the screeching cry for help. _

_ They had begun running again, exhausted legs pumping against the snow, trying to find the source of the screaming. He couldn't breathe, he could barely shout anymore as they got over the hill. The voice was calling out names now, beginning with mother, over and over again._

_ "Fili! Fee! Fee, where are you?" Thorin stopped in his tracks, the confirmation of the person's identity flooding him. Fili was sprinting with a newfound energy, calling back to his brother, though his voice was barely loud enough to reach Thorin's ears._

_ "I'm here Kee! We've come for you!" Kili shrieked at the top of his lungs, something that wasn't a word or name at all, but rather a noise of pure pain. Thorin was staggering, pure willpower keeping him moving forward._

_ "THORIN!" His name stopped him in his tracks. "Uncle Thorin! Please!" Next to him, Fili collapsed, finally giving into the lack of strength and cold. Thorin paused only for a second to scoop his elder nephew up, when Kili called out again. "Uncle-" The words dissolved into the worst sound that had ever reached him, making every burning muscle in his body tremble, the scream filling every pore of his body, until it was abruptly cut off. _

_ He had stumbled through the trees, cradling Fili, mumbling the words he wished he could call out over and over. "I'm coming for you." He only stopped when he saw the patches of deep red snow, and let himself sink to his knees._

"Thorin!" Bofur hissed from just in front of him. Thorin blinked, crashing back into Mirkwood as they approached the elves' kingdom. "Where's Bilbo?"

**AN: So that was that! I hoped you liked it. Please read, favorite and review, especially if you liked it.**

**Also, random note, my computer keeps wanting to autocorrect elvish to elfish, along with elven to elfin, so that is sort of annoying the heck of my right now. Other funny autocorrects include King Tranquil of Mirkwood, King Under the Mountain Thorn, and his nephew Kali. **


	2. Torches Gold Uncle

**AN: First off, I would like to thank all you lovely people who reviewed, followed or favorited this story. It means so much to me! I am going to try and stick to a release schedule of a chapter every other day, but keep an eye out, as I may get lucky and put one up early. Leave a review if you want to tell me what you think! As always, I hope you enjoy!**

**Torches Gold Uncle**

Kili ran straight to his room, the oncoming attack seeping into his body, making everything feel numb and blundering, although his heart felt like it was trying to beat out of his chest. He had grown used to the signs by now, but it hadn't happened in so long, years. Anything could really trigger it, odd things, like the first time he picked up a bow, or playing tag with Legolas as a small child, or the time that snow came to Mirkwood.

The running probably wasn't a good idea, as it was only making it harder to breathe. It was like forgetting when it happened, as if he just couldn't figure how to properly take in air. His chest was rising and falling out of control, without tempo or steady beat, the strangled sounds escaping from his throat reminding him of Thorin pressed against the tree.

Thorin…The name bounced around his head, ricocheting back and forth incessantly, repeating over and over.

Kili stumbled as he slammed the large oak door shut behind him, fumbling with the key in the lock as tears were quickly stinging his eyes. He was sure the other elves had seen him, but he didn't care. There were times when he wished he would just cease to exist, and this was one of them. Somewhere in his head, he could hear a voice, soft and soothing, conflicting with the whirlwind inside him. Before, he never understood what the healers called a panic attack. Now it was far too painfully familiar.

He could barely see, hearing nothing as the voice got louder and louder, eventually becoming one with his own thoughts and voice. But somewhere it got lost in translation, the way elvish words never sounded right in common tongue. What had been a lullaby and song in his head had become a twisted jumble of words and notes. He was barely aware as he tripped over the bedside table, falling onto his front with a crash that he almost didn't hear at all. Kili knew that struggling against it was impossible, and finally let the attack devour him whole.

_Mountains misty misty far away over over_

_gold forgotten long find cold old, so old, the through_

_caverns dungeons dungeons trapped_

_uncle uncle uncle uncle uncle_

_pines fire too much fire roaring_

_flaming roaring burning lights gold_

_red spread forgotten gold long dungeons_

_torches_

_gold _

_uncle_

The words were building to a crescendo, roaring until it was the deafening sound of a child screaming at the top of his lungs, the word uncle ringing in his ears. Just as Kili thought he would be unable to take it a minute longer, it disappeared, leaving the off-putting silence in its place. Then, someone was speaking again. At first, he thought that the voices were coming back, when he realized that this was a different person, someone known and familiar. "Kili!" He was being shaken, pulled back into reality. Kili snapped his dark eyes, and found them meeting the frigid blue ones of Thranduil. The kneeling elven king let out a sigh of relief, looking down for a moment, releasing his tight grip on Kili's shoulder.

"Uncle," Kili whispered, catching his breath, tears streaming down his face. He was twisted on the ground, cramming in between the toppled nightstand and his bed. Books and scraps of parchment were scattered all over the floor, along with a pair of silver daggers and various other leafs and miscellaneous items. Through his back and face were throbbing from the impact, he didn't think anything was broken. It wouldn't have been the first time. He began to prop himself when Thranduil looked up, laying a hand on Kili's knee. He couldn't tell whether the king was terrified, furious, nervous, caring, or all of them at once.

"You will never do that again." He was giving off intensity like heat, a heat in which Kili felt scorched. He was still struggling to comprehend what was happening, the words of the awful song still playing in his mind.

"I couldn't do anything to stop it. You know that," he pleaded. Thranduil shook his head, nostrils flaring.

"I am not speaking about that. You clearly knew the attack was coming, and yet you decided to lock yourself in your room where no one could reach you easily to help if something happened. You fell. You could have bleeding to death for all I knew. I am the luckiest creature on this planet because I had the key." He sounded so disappointed and upset. Kili opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to come up with a response, the itchy sensation in his nose warning him of worse crying to come.

"I'm sorry. I just…I didn't want anyone seeing that." Kili let his head fall back onto the side of the bed, determined not to begin sobbing. He had always hated people seeing him cry, but as he was unable to stop the steady flow of tears, stopping the heaving and ugly hysteria was the most he could do. Thranduil reached out, holding him around the shoulders, pulling him close like he was his own child, letting Kili's head fall onto his shoulder. The king was not like the other elves anymore. In the beginning he had been stern, unsure on how to deal with a dwarven child, cold and emotionless. It was different now, and Kili knew that no matter how he was related to anyone else by blood, Thranduil would be his only true family.

The King of Mirkwood staid steady, as his adopted nephew's shoulders shook, his hands working their way through his tangled hair. Suddenly, Kili stiffened, pulling away. Though he the only thing he wanted to do was stay safe there in his uncle's arms he managed to sputter out the message he should have been delivering in the first place. "Thorin Oakenshield," he stammered. At the name, Thranduil's eyes closed, his lips becoming one solid line. "We captured him and a company of dwarves in the forest. Tauriel is bringing them to the dungeons. They have been searched and stripped of weapons. But-" The elf almost flinched, an action Kili had never seen before. "When I went to remove his gear, Thorin…he looked at me like I was a ghost. He _knew_ me."

"It does not matter." Thranduil responded automatically. As he began, there was a tremor in his solid voice, but as he continued, Kili watched his face and tone drain of all emotion of connection. "Whatever that disgrace of a creature said to you should be none of your concern."

"Uncle, are you listening to me? The entire group, not just Thorin, was staring at me. They knew my name." The king rose to his full height, making Kili feel insignificant.

"They'll be locked up and left to rot! Why do you care?" The venomous and provoked side of the king was showing, and though one of Kili's worst fears was provoking the elf, he refused to stand down.

"You're avoiding the subject!" He grasped the edge of the lavish bed, using it as a crutch to lift himself from the ground, though his aching body groaned in protest.

"Kili, sit down. You'll injure yourself further." Thranduil almost seemed irritated. But like all dwarves, Kili was stubborn and not easily deterred.

"He looked at me, and he spoke my name like he was waiting his entire life to say it again. He told me that he chose what I was to be called." Kili groped for his necklace, ripping the chain so that it hung from his fist, the bead swinging from side to side. "It doesn't just say my name does it? Does it?" He gave the chain an angry jerk, so that it shook and spiraled, almost falling out of his hand.

"You'd take the word of a greedy dwarf king over what I've told you?" Kili was so frustrated he could have screamed, and did.

"I want the truth! Not what you want to believe, or what you want me to think! I'm sick of being treated like an outsider. Everyone here knows something I don't. Uncle, tell me!" Thrandruil seemed to explode, the composure that he usually kept ripping apart as he swelled with rage, once again making Kili acutely aware of his size.

"I'm not your uncle!" He shouted. "He is!" Kili felt like he was falling into the floor again, like all his organs had collided with his ribcage. Thranduil himself looked shocked at his own words, grimacing. A moment silence filled the chaotic room, a silence that was protesting against being filler. "The bead states your status as the heir to the throne of Durin. We knew exactly who you were the moment you wandered into the halls." Kili shook his head.  
>"So you kept me? You hate Thorin." The feeling of betrayal was swelling like a bubble inside his chest, shoving the words up out of his mouth. Thranduil's stony face softened.<p>

"You weren't conscious when we found you, and we were making the decision on what to do with you. By the time we were finished, you were awake, and you sat there on that cot." His voice was close to breaking, and Kili felt the bubble pop within him, replaced with a throbbing. "You looked up at me, and as a child asked me 'Uncle, are we home now?' What could I say to a child like that, innocent, hurt, and alone? I didn't care what the others thought and I told you, 'Yes, Kili. This is home.' You stared at me for a moment, and said, 'I never want to leave my home again.'" Without even thinking, Kili fell over the debris on the floor, and wrapped his arms around Thranduil's waist, hugging him as tightly as he could. He felt the elven king's long arms hold him as well, a moment that was all too rare and all too sweet.

"I was handed life in Mirkwood, as an opportunity for a different life, and I will always choose this," Kili whispered, not letting go. From his hand, he let the bead and necklace fall to the floor, where it lay with the rest of the clutter. They both took a step back, looking at the dwarf's remaining piece of his former life as it looked so pitiful and lost.

"I was meaning to save this for the festival tomorrow." Thranduil broke the quiet with a sentence just above a whisper. Kili looked up, confused, as the king stretched out a palm, revealing a bead of his own. "But I think you should have it now."

Unlike the other one, this bead was gold and lyrical, streamline, with large swirls and shaped working their way around its smooth surface. In the center, Kili recognized his own name in elvish, along with an inscription, reading "the favored of Mirkwood." He closed his fingers around it, clutching it preciously to his chest.

"Thank you, Uncle." Thranduil smiled.

"I thought it was about time for you to have a new one." Kili nodded, before bending to one knee with some difficulty. In his free hand, he picked up the fallen necklace. He rose again, pressing it into the king's hand.

"You can take this, and tie it into the lock of Thorin Oakenshield's cell. Let him know that I will not be coming to see him, nor will I ever." Thranduil nodded, even the simple action seeming graceful with the elf's willowy body.

"I want you to stay away from the dungeons at all costs. If Thorin brought on the panic attack, then you should stay away from the other's as well." Kili bit his lip.

"I don't want to see them again."

"And you won't." The dwarf opened his hand again to look at the bead, so delicate and beautiful. "Sit down," the king instructed. "I can braid it into your hair in the back, so you can wear it to the festival tonight." Kili smiled, almost sadly as he slid onto the bed, handing the bead back to his adopted uncle and turning around, relief echoing on his face. It was best that way, so he couldn't see Thranduil bowing his head and closing his eyes, as the king thought of the task he was expected to carry out.


	3. New Uncle, New Bead

**AN: see end of chapter.**

**New Uncle, New Bead**

The minute that they entered the Mirkwood kingdom, Fili was acutely aware that something was wrong. It was too quite, too few elf guards besides those that had arrived with them. He could see the she-elf called Tauriel was tense as she led them to the dungeons. Her eyes kept flitting about, as she if she were waiting for something to jump out at her. She stayed her course, however, shoving Bofur into the first cell. It was clear she was following Kili's instructions as she strategically placed the dwarves just far apart enough so that it was impossible for them to make any contact with each other. It was still baffling to Fili that Kili had done this to them.

Mahal, it was baffling his brother was alive, a dream that he thought was dead a long time ago. Yet there he was. Fili could have recognized that dwarf anywhere, the hair, the eyes, the bead. The voice was different, as were the clothes and overall air and personality, but it was undoubtedly the baby brother he had mourned.

After the day they had lost him, Fili had often dreamt that he was still alive somewhere, that he would be playing out in the clearing one day and Kili would just step out of the bushes, or that he was safe and tucked away in the Iron Hills, or wandering happily in the Shire, and one day, on his travels with his Uncle, they would reunite and everything would be the way it used to be. Sure, he had stopped imagining such stupid things, come to terms with the fact that his brother was dead, but this was a situation that he had never considered before.

Tauriel took Thorin by the shoulder, jostling him into the nearest cell. "I demand counsel with the king!" He shouted as they continued to move on. Fili could hear him pound on the door, kicking the bars of the cell. Tauriel clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes, an oddly flippant gesture for an elf. Fili and Balin were the only ones left now, and when they reached the next stop, he knew it belonged to him. Unlike his uncle, he stepped in the prison willingly, though he still made verbal protest.

"Where is my brother? What did you do to him?" Tauriel looked him over for a moment, about to say something, when a terrible shout echoed throughout the halls, causing her to twitch slightly, her eyes widening. A different voice was yelling in response, though slightly muffled. Without thinking, it seemed, Tauriel tossed Balin into the cell next to Fili's, and dashed off.

After a brief struggle, Fili gave up trying to see where she going, falling onto the floor, frustration beating through his veins. It didn't matter that he had found Kili again, for now his brother resented and hated the family he was born into, and had barely cast Fili a second glance. It also didn't help that the Company was trapped in Mirkwood, for how long, he didn't know.

"Balin?" he called, flinching as he heard another yell from somewhere in the halls. He had to wait as he heard the older dwarf getting closer to the wall their cell's shared. "It is him, right? Thorin and I aren't just being desperate and seeing him where he isn't?" There was another pause.

"No, laddie. That was Kili if I ever saw him, no doubt about it."

"He's so…different," Fili sighed, fumbling around with his hands with very little purpose. "It's just…strange."

"Aye." Balin understood, always listening. "I doubt that after all this time he would be even similar to the sibling you lost. He's been raised a new person, an elf for that matter. Who would've thought?" Fili cracked a smile, thinking on it for a minute.

"Maybe Kili is still in there though. The one I grew up with. We can bring him back, make him remember." The silence seemed to stretch out forever.

"Fili." Balin wasn't tender anymore, rather nervous and cautious, causing Fili to sit up slightly. The dwarf was usually so sure of himself, giving the best advice the prince had ever heard, but he seemed so reluctant to speak, like he was terrified to interject his thoughts. "Did you ever consider…well…think that he might choose this over you and Thorin?" Fili's eyebrows jumped together, not properly comprehending these words.

"What do you mean? Why wouldn't he come back with us, if given the decision?" He could almost feel Balin trying to work out the response. A few times the dwarf in the adjacent cell began speaking and stopped at the first syllable. Finally, he seemed to have worked out his response.

"He ran away, lad, no matter what Thorin keeps saying. It was his choice to run into those woods, and nothing is going to change that. Perhaps, this is a second chance for him. He might want to stay here and continue the Mirkwood life." Fili shook his head, though he knew Balin couldn't see him.

"Even if he doesn't remember us, how can you pick elves over your kin?"

"The elves are his kin now. He said he has a new uncle..." Balin cut himself off.

"No, keep going!" Fili insisted. "Say it."

"He said he has a new uncle, a new family. Fili, you have to be prepared that he might have a…different brother." In that simple sentence, he felt his insides crumple, the way it did that morning in the snow. The momentary joy he had when he first laid eyes on Kili was completely absent now, and he could even picture the replacement sibling now, just like him but an elf. And an elf was what Kili wanted now.

He could kill over this.

"The King Thranduil wishes to see you." Tauriel had snuck back, almost completely silent like all elves. Fili jumped at her voice, leaping to his feet, and pressed against the bars of the cell until she opened them. Tauriel was staring at him critically, her lips pursed and body tense. After a moment, she nodded in the other direction, back the way they had entered.

Thorin was already out of his own cell, standing just a little ways off, watching him with his ice blue eyes. As a child, Fili had been afraid of looking at his uncle because of those eyes. Now, he was afraid of looking at his uncle because Fili didn't want to see the disappointment in his face. Instead of that look, however, Thorin barely smiled, nodding in recognition.

She led them past the remainder of the empty cells, winding along the path to the throne room. Tauriel was radiating frustration, her brow furrowed, corners of her mouth turned down, and green eyes glinting in the light. Fili looked over his shoulder at Thorin, surprised to see him walking with his eyes glued to his feet. His shoulders were hunched and tense, his large hands balled into fists, and Fili could see the muscles tensed under the dingy blue flannel undershirt that Thorin wore now. As if sensing his nephew's gaze, Thorin looked up.

The moment their eyes locked FIli turned back to face forward. It wasn't just his uncle's irises; the prince hated eye contact in general. Luckily, none of the other creatures in Mirkwood seemed to want to look at him. At least there was that.

Thandruil was waiting for them on a great throne of antlers, seated upon it with an air of superiority as he towered above them. The king even had stairs to get down from the great seat. Say what you would about dwarves and their vanity, Fili thought, at least they keep their thrones on the same level as the rest of their people. The elven king was dressed in lavish silver robes, a crown of branches resting on his head of pale blonde hair. Like Fili's uncle, Thranduil's eyes were absolutely piercing, causing the prince to immediately avert his eyes as Tauriel took her place beside the throne.

That's when he noticed him, standing slightly behind the elevated chair itself, partially in the shadows, was an elf that could only be described as a younger and more sinister looking version of Thranduil himself. He had the same hair and eyes, though his face was not as long and emotionless, and he wore no crown on his head. He too was dressed in silver robes, and he seemed to be placed strategically, as to view the conversation that was about to occur, but not contribute to it.

"So," boomed the king, an eyebrow raised as he rose from his seat and began slowly gliding down the step. "This is the brother."

"Would you have me here if I weren't?" He could have described Thranduil's expression as a wince, but it contained a smile. The king had made his way to the floor now, standing before them, and even at ground level, he was enormous.

"You have a smart tongue, dwarf. You should watch it before I cut it out." Thorin opened his mouth to protest, but Thranduil continued. "I can see the pair do not bear much family resemblance. You look nothing like him." It was true, of course. Fili had taken after his father, with the gold hair and bright eyes, while Kili bore much more resemblance to his mother and Thorin, dark eyes and hair, with a resting brooding look.

"I don't see how such a comment is relevant," Fili responded, though he knew it was a useless statement. The elf would control the conversation, and the relevance of what he wanted to say would not be considered in such an environment. "We are here to talk about my brother's presence in your kingdom, not my appearance compared to his."

"I want to know what my nephew is doing prancing around like an elf in your forest, pretending to be one of you, raised like one of you!" Thorin's voice was already out of control, rising and dripping with venom and contempt. Thranduil seemed completely unfazed by his words, however, retaining his calm and underlying vicious persona.

"I could ask you the same thing, Thorin son of Thrain son of Thror. I doubt you sent him here to be adopted." Fili bit his lip, bracing for impact.

"Do not mock me, elven king. I am not interested in your games." Thranduil walked forward now, ignoring Thorin entirely, as if he were speaking to no one at all.

"But I do see that it was for the best that you drove him away. He seems much happier here, do you not agree?"

"How can he know what is happier when he does not remember the times where his heart was fullest?" Fili interjected, not wanting for Thorin to explode. His uncle was visibly fuming once more, his upper lip curling in a sneer.

"I've heard bits and pieces of your brother's story, Fili son of Dis, and I assure you that whatever allusion of nostalgia you are looking at your childhood through, it is false." Fili was beginning to understand his uncle's hatred for this elf. There was something about him that under his skin, invading every pore of his body, making Fili feel full of rage.

"You know nothing of my childhood, nor will you ever." Thranduil chuckled, a sound that should have been merry, but came away slick and cold. He was razor focused on Fili now.

"I know that your brother was treated as an inferior compared to you, never favored by your uncle, criticized and critiqued for his personality and interests, and beaten down constantly, and when he tried to resist your uncle finally snapped-"

"You will not speak of him as if you know him! Kili is not yours. He was never yours. You took him in because you wanted to dangle him in front of me and use him as a tool, not because you ever cared for his wellbeing! Do not pretend tha you have shielded him from the danger that is me!" Thorin was full on shouting now, advancing against Thranduil, and though he was miniscule compared to the elf he had the ferocity of a wolf. Thranduil took a step forward as if accepting the challenge.

"If Kili has no memory, how would you know of any of that?" Fili pointed out, before guards inevitably dragged off Thorin. Thranduil's head snapped to look at him.

"He has other ways of accessing those times of his life. He is just not aware he is doing so."

"Don't speak in riddles, King of Mirkwood." Fili's voice was strong and powerful, and with it he was able to lure him away from Thorin, relieving the tension that was building between them. "How can one speak a memory, without remembering it themselves?" Thranduil took a moment, and at first Fili thought he was pondering the subject, save for the twinkle forming in the elf's eye, a twinkle that frightened Fili more than he would like to admit.

"Tell me, how old was he when he ran?" Fili shifted uncomfortably.

"That isn't important," Thorin snapped, keeping both eyes on Thranduil at all times.

"Twenty," Fili answered. "It was his twentieth birthday when it happened." He saw Thorin sigh, obviously upset at the spilled information. Thranduil smiled ever so slightly, alarmingly.

"According to his recorded date of birth, when Kili arrived here he was just over twenty-two." Thorin and Fili exchanged a worried glance.

"What are you trying to say?" Thorin was almost apprehensive.

"I'm saying it is pure ignorance to label the heirs to your status, son of Thrain." From a fold in his robe, Thranduil drew a fine silver chain, and on it, a silver bead: Kili's bead. "It gives other enemies the confirmation they need to punish your bloodline as they wish." Fili was attempting to work out this statement in his head, though Thorin was clearly focusing on one thing.

"Where did you get that?" He spoke through gritted teeth, eyes so intense they could freeze the hottest fires.

"Your nephew told me to give it to you, as he has a new bead to wear, and won't be needing it anymore. He also tells me that he has no desire to speak with either of you, or see you again." Thorin lunged, but before he even had the chance to lay a finger on Thranduil, a flash of silver and hair caught him from behind.

The elf who had stood in the shadows held Thorin back with ease, an expression pleasure on his cold face as he twisted the dwarf's arms behind his back. "I'll kill you!" Thorin yelled, as loud as possible, struggling.

"I'm afraid that if there is any killing going on in this kingdom, it will be mine to deal out." The elf responded coolly. Thranduil was no longer looking so confident and smooth, looking at the other elf with warning.

"Legolas."

"Shall we start with your nephew, perhaps?"

**AN: So that's all I have for this installment. I hope you enjoyed it. Thus far I have stuck to my release schedule of a chapter every other day (hooray)! If you liked this story and want to get notified when I put the new chapters up, click the follow button. Also, if you fancy, leave a review! I love hearing what you guys think, and it really makes my day when I get to read the things you guys respond with. Until next time.**


	4. Hushed Whispers

**Hushed Whispers**

Even though Bilbo was not involved in the fight, he found himself pressed up against the wall, cringing as Thorin continued to yell while the guards dragged him away. Fili stood there, slackjawed as the redheaded captain led him away. Bilbo still wasn't quite used to the way the ring made things look, the way it drained color and definition from everything he looked at. The world involving the ring was a smeared and terrifying place, where something was always not quite right, full of strange images and noises that he knew didn't normally exist.

The elf king was glaring now, the angriest the hobbit had seen him since sneaking into Mirkwood, which was saying something. His eyes were so intensely focused on the other, who was assumed to be his son, that he terrified Bilbo, whom the stare wasn't even directed at. Legolas, for that was his name, was looking back, though his moment of rebellion and cruelty was gone now, the prince looking at his father with legitimate anxiety and shame. Out of nowhere, they were both rapid firing elvish at one another, an argument Bilbo chose as his cue to slip away.

He was clueless as to what to do. Sneaking into the kingdom to help the rest of the Company escape had seemed like such an easy task at first, but the moment he had stepped in, he knew it was not going to be so simple. With the arrival of the dwarves came the arrival of crowds of guards, as Thranduil clearly ran a tight ship when it came to his enemy. It also seemed that the only way out of the place was through one of the two heavily guarded exits, which were also absolutely no help.

Bilbo wasn't even bothering to try and figure out the Kili situation either. He was still trying to wrap his head around it. Fili had never mentioned a brother, and Thorin another nephew, so the discussion between the jailed dwarves were foreign and odd to him. He was also sure that they would refuse to leave without their lost family member, adding another issue into the whole business.

Well, at least he knew which guard usually possessed the keys. At least that was something…

Scuttling back to the cells themselves, Bilbo knew that making it into the mountain if they didn't get out in the next two days would be virtually impossible, and the responsibility of helping them all escape, rested on his small shoulders: a far from encouraging thought. In stories and folk songs, hobbits were never the heroes, and though he had indeed saved the Company many times, he never fancied himself the legendary type.

The guards ahead were finished smashing Thorin and Fili back into their cells, and the resulting noise almost caused Bilbo to be unable to hear the scuff of a boot directly behind him. Almost.

The hobbit whirled around, pressing his back to the wall automatically, and found himself staring face to face with the lost member. Kili looked nervous and cautious as he craned his neck to peer at the dungeons themselves, as if he were dying to see what was within, but was also petrified to discover it as well. Bilbo clapped a hand over his own mouth, eyes wide. It was in times like these when he wished the ring would also help him walk through walls, or stop having a physical presence at all.

Kili had changed since Bilbo had seen him last, swapping out the uniform for a pale gold and leafy green robe, almost identical to those of Thranduil and Legolas besides the color. The hobbit almost winced at the lack of the bead, which he now knew was being tied to the bars of Thorin's cell. Instead, the dwarf's hair was tame and adorned with a gold bead similar to the one he denounced. Bilbo could also tell that Kili had at least attempted to shave, though he saw several nicks around the jaw area. The lack of facial hair also revealed four small ridges, most likely scars, on the left hand side of his face, almost disappearing into the hairline. The marks began at ear level, making their way down below his cheekbones. Additionally, being near Thorin's nephew seemed to trigger a strange noise, almost like a hushed whisper while Bilbo was wearing the ring. It didn't happen near anyone else, yet whenever he got close to him, the nonsense voice would begin to babble. Bilbo frowned.

Kili wasn't supposed to be here anyway. By word of the king he had no desire to, and was forbidden to be anywhere near the dwarves or the dungeons. Yet there he was, looking into the cells and attempting to see the relatives he had claimed to despise. All Bilbo could do was pray that he did not move any further forward.

To his great relief, and horror, the voices of the returning guards drew closer, causing Kili to slink back towards the throne area, but also cutting the burglar so he had no other way to exit, no choice, but to follow the dwarf.

Bilbo had discovered that everyone in Mirkwood moved with a purpose, not like the hobbits that enjoyed wandering, or the dwarves that journeyed aimlessly for the sake of adventure. No. These creatures seemed to all have an idea of where they were going and how to get there, Kili being no exception. He sped walked forward with a steely look in his eyes, brow furrowed with the corners of his mouth turned down. And since Bilbo's aimless wandering of the palace had yielded no luck thus far, he could at least track him somewhere that had some sort of objective.

Kili sped down several different staircases and passageways, into a section of Mirkwood Bilbo hadn't even noticed existed, a completely different level. At the end of the corridor was a large arch that opened up into a larger room, one that looked ten times more important than anything the hobbit had found by himself. With a look over one shoulder that made Bilbo feel oddly cold, as the dwarf looked at him without seeing him, Kili ducked into the room itself.

It was primarily full of tables and chairs, wine bottles discarded all over the place, along with several books and papers. On the wall by the entrance, a hook was mounted into the stone, and on it, a ring covered in keys. Kili let his finger hang on it for a moment, before continuing on, clucking his tongue at the disorder of the place. Whilst the prince paused to look at one of the documents laid on one of the various tables, something caught Bilbo's eyes that could not be ignored.

It was a separate room, which opened through another arch, directly adjacent to the one he presently stood in, was the solution to his problem. It was primarily empty besides the bottles that lined the walls, and a precariously stack of barrels in the center of the room, along with a large lever nearby. At Bilbo slipped into the room, a quick count telling him that there were fifteen barrels, more than enough for the thirteen passengers that would definitely be escaping. From the sound of rushing water beneath his wooly feet and the deep separated rectangle section of the floor, Bilbo was sure that it would lead into a river or some sort of rushing body of water. Now, all he needed were the keys.

Back in the other room, Kili's frown deepened as he scanned the paper further, before simply muttering "ridiculous," and darting out the room. The key ring was Bilbo's for the taking and take it he did. In the eyes of the Company, and increasingly in his own eyes, he was a very good burglar. After tucking it carefully within his web-covered jacket, he was safe to wind his way back to the dungeons.

~:~

The patience that it took Bilbo to wait for the guards to slowly filter their way away from the cells and up to the festival had once existed in the little hobbit's body, but had slowly ebbed away throughout the nonstop adventure of the quest. By the time he was sure the coast was clear, he was about ready to begin pounding his head on the wall from boredom and anticipation. It didn't help that he had come to the conclusion that wearing the ring for long periods of times was utterly exhausting. The absence of a good meal in recent moment was also particularly distracting.

Now at least he was free to begin implementing his plan, as he finally eased the ring off his finger with a sigh, fishing the key ring out of his jacket. A strange lightness came over him as he ran down the rows of cells, until he finally heard a recognized shout.

"Bilbo!" The hobbit immediately raised a finger over his lips with an urgent "Sh!" as he turned to the nearest holding area, containing Fili, who was now hanging onto two of the bars, smiling. Bilbo rushed to fumble with the lock and keys. "What are you doing here?" The lock clicked at he slid the correct key inside and turned it, leading the door to swing open.

"I've come to help you all escape, of course!" Bilbo retorted, jingling the keys for effect as Fili stepped out of the cell. "I am, in fact, a master burglar." He decided to leave out the miniscule detail that he had stolen the keys from a hook, not a person, and keep that information to himself. Fili clapped him on the shoulder.

"Brilliant! The rest of the Company is somewhere over there." He gestured vaguely. "I was next to Balin until they moved me. I just hope they're all still in the same place." Bilbo nodded, beginning to walk in the direction he had pointed towards.

"Just stay quiet! The elves should be preoccupied at their party for the moment, but I don't want to tempt them by being too noisy."

It turned out Fili had been correct, as the rest of the dwarves were in the cells just down the way, Balin first, followed by Bombur, Ori, Oin and Gloin. They seemed to get the message of staying quiet better than others, while the other members were not as soft. Dwalin yelled at the top of his lungs when Bilbo popped out in front of his cell, causing a chorus of "Sh!"'s to be uttered. Bofur and Gloin also made loud exclamations before they were silenced. Nori and Dori were both fine, though Nori ended up kicking the bars to the cell in excitement, before yelping at the resulting pain in his foot.

They had left Thorin for last, passing him on their way to get Bofur, but figuring that they would double-back anyway to exit, and free him then. The minute the reassuring click signaled the opening of the door, Thorin broke out in the first genuine smile Bilbo had seen from him in a while. "Master Baggins," he greeted, shaking his head. "It appears that you've done it again." Bilbo shrugged, before nodding his head back towards the barrel room.

"Not to out do myself, but we have a way out." A murmur of comments broke out within the Company. Bilbo was becoming quickly irritated by the cacophony, shushing them once again. "But, if we don't want to get caught, it's important that you all _stay quiet_! No talking until we're down there, understood?"

"Not quite." Everyone jumped, jolted more like it, as a voice came from the shadows in the rows of cells across the passage. The moment Bilbo saw the flash of gold, green, and dark hair, he simply squeaked: "Run!"

Run they did, Bilbo leading the pack towards the exit, keeping an eye for Kili as he followed in hot pursuit. It occurred to the hobbit as odd that the dwarf didn't sound any sort of alarm, instead keeping a steady pace with the Company, also strange, as he could clearly run faster. Thorin and Fili kept looking over their shoulders with shell-shocked looks on their faces, Bilbo having to urge them on. Now, their only hope was to make it to the barrels and get out of Mirkwood as soon as possible.

As they began thundering down the second staircase, Kili was gone, nowhere to be seen. Everyone was looking around desperately, and the absence of their revealed pursuer was far more unsettling than his presence itself. A million thoughts were flashing through Bilbo's brain, one entering before he could comprehend the idea that was now leaving his mind. The only constant theme was to keep moving.

As they skidded into the room, it seemed as though Kili had abandoned the chase entirely, as he did not enter the room directly after them, and Bilbo was sure the elf-raised dwarf was not lost, keeping him on edge. "Into the barrels!" He called out to the Company, ignoring their confused looks. "Don't question it, just follow my instructions." Fili seemed to have not caught that last part, however, because he stopped next to Bilbo, along with Thorin.

"We can't leave Kili here." He looked so conflicted, glancing between the dwarves and his uncle, and then back at the entrance itself. "I won't just let him go again." Bilbo opened his mouth to respond, but found only a squeak instead.

"We can come back!" Dwalin shouted from his own barrel. "If we stay here, we will never get a chance like this before Durin's Day!"

"I just-"

"We don't have a choice!" Thorin interrupted, moving towards the barrel room himself. "I cannot risk the fate of this quest on a family member who might prefer to stay here and pretend to be an elf." Fili deflated, but followed his uncle's words as he clambered into a barrel along with the rest.

After a quick head count, Bilbo rushed to the lever, holding it with one hand. "It might be a little cold," he warned. "Just keep your head above the surface!" There were loud and finite exclamations of protest as the hobbit pulled the lever anyway, sending the rectangle to fall at an angle, so both the dwarves and barrels roll and fell into the churning white water of the river below.

Bilbo only took a moment to prepare himself before grabbing a barrel, and plunging in.

**Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed Chapter 4 of my little story. Follow it if you're interested to find out what happens next, hopefully the day after tomorrow, but with writing you never know. As always, I love hearing from you guys so feel free (and encouraged) to leave a review and tell me what you think! Thanks once again for reading! Until next time…**


	5. Stumble

**Stumble**

The first thing Thorin felt as he crashed into the river was the pure unadulterated shock of the freezing water and the terrible jolt as the barrel creaked, spinning with the current. It took a lot to unnerve the king so quickly, and he wasn't sure he was all right with the feeling that came over him as he heard the shouts of the rest of the Company, along with a few torn from his own throat. Bilbo had better be right about this.

The water led out of the underwater passageway and into Mirkwood, Thorin struggling to get his bearings. The barrel was rocking back and forth, causing him to hang onto the sides of it with his hands, grasping until his knuckles turned white. From behind him, or maybe around him, he wasn't sure anymore, he could hear laughing. He whirled around, twisted to look who the voice belonged to, expecting Fili, but as he turned, the barrel, and the expected path of water, fell out from under him.

He had heard of "going over the waterfall" as a figure a speech to describe a time when the ground was taken out from below your feet. Somehow, Thorin didn't think any sort of surprise could hold up to the experience of going into whitewater backwards. The force of it all drove the barrel underwater, Thorin feeling every pore of his body fill with the cold liquid, not counting the horrific leap his heart had done. He didn't let go of the rim, however, and when he burst out onto the surface, he heard the laughing again.

"That was one of the funniest things I've ever seen in my life!" Fili was jeering as the current continued to pour them into a smoother section of river. They were outside now, the balmy night air refreshing on Thorin's soaking face and clothes. The sky was clear, and the stars were shining brighter than ever. Though the night gave them limited visibility, there was something comforting about it, soothing. In the night, Thorin felt like he was able to be someone else, to blend into the shadows like other people and watch the world play out. It seemed to be graying though. Dawn was coming soon. The silence and serenity of their freedom in the darkness was broken by the loud cackles of his nephew. "You heard him scream right? Oh, I wish I could have seen your face in greater detail, Uncle! The bit I saw was priceless!"

"Don't yell!" He called back, seeing the vague outline of Fili in his own barrel drifting off to his left. "There may be guards about. We have the darkness on our side, but we must stay as quiet as possible!" The chatter of the Company drizzled into hushed whispers. The water was calmer now, but both the prospect of another drop-off and the entire escape was putting Thorin on edge. "We have everyone? Bilbo?"

"Here!" He was always forgetting how small Bilbo's voice was. If Thorin was the lion, Bilbo was the mouse. He craned his neck trying to find the little hobbit in the chaos. He could barely glimpse the shadow of a small figure hanging onto the side of a barrel.

"What did you do, fall out on the rapid?" Thorin inquired jokingly. Bilbo harrumphed, causing the rest of the dwarves to break out in sporadic chuckles.

"You know, I am not half as robust as you dwarves, and you should all be glad I am not joining the boulders at the bottom of this river!" Even Thorin broke a smile, an expression that slid off his face when he turned back forward.

There was a bridge over the river, one that had clearly been made to regulate the trade out of Mirkwood. Thorin could see a lever, which he assumed controlled the grate that was closed over their only exit. He almost thought he could see the shadow of a figure ducking out of sight, but in such conditions, it could have been anything. They were coming up fast, the first few dwarves bracing themselves at the water drove them to hit it, the rest piling up behind. Thorin could do nothing else but the same as he swore under his breath.

Fili was pounding on the grate, as the king was the last one to ram into the collection of barrels. Bofur took advantage of the time to lift a shivering Bilbo into the barrel once more, while the others seemed to be determined to physically force their way out, the noise level slowly rising.

"Did I not tell you to be quiet?" Thorin growled as he began to lift himself out of the barrel, adjusting only slightly as it wobbled in the water.

"Thorin, what are you doing?" Dwalin urgently whispered back, his muscular form sticking out among the Company.

"There's a lever on the bridge directly above you," replied Thorin. "All I need to do is pull it and the grate will rise. We'll be out. Just…cover me." He knew it was useless, as they had no weapons, but something about the phrase calmed him. Ignoring their protests, he clambered onto the platform.

"How about this time you don't scream and get yourself into a needlessly complicated escape route?" Thorin froze at the voice, the one that had triggered their rushed departure from Mirkwood in the fortress. The shape of a rather strange dwarf was leaning on the railing directly next to the lever, and Thorin knew that his nephew was not going to be allowing him to pull it.

"I believe that if you were seeking conversation, there were better ways to go about it then to just step out of the shadows." He chose his words carefully this time, wary of the dwarf's irritability and short temper. Kili snorted, crossing his arms.

"Thranduil claims that I have some dwarvish flaws left over from the other life, and the want to make a dramatic answer is one of them." In any other circumstances, Thorin would have probably found this at least mildly amusing. Under these circumstances, however, it made everything seem uncomfortable and wrong.

"I don't think that's you dwarvish blood that is making you a show-off. You were one since the day you learned how to walk." Kili seemed to ignore this comment, along with the growing shouts and protest of the dwarves below. Thorin waved his hand, hoping the rest would see that he was unharmed.

"Maybe so, but it is a flaw nonetheless, much like my possibly fatal curiosity." Thorin had no response ready, but his nephew seemed to have what was needed to continue speaking. "I am not here to exchange pleasantries, Thorin son of Thrain son of Thror. To put it simply, I would rather know a little of myself before you all get yourself incinerated. This time, I have no need for a bow or dagger; as if you do not comply I will call the rest of the guard from their celebration. I am sure they would be happy to place you back in your cells. If you are intelligent enough to give me what I want, I will let you go on your fool's quest, well, give you a head-start at least." Thorin began to lean to at least whisper something to the Company, which had stopped talking altogether, listening intently. Kili raised a hand.

"Just you and me Thorin." The king was hesitant, but as he saw the first light begin to crest over the treetops, he knew there was no time to lose.

"I am your uncle."

"Of this I am aware." Thorin should have known that Thranduil had told him such information, but thought it was best to begin at the beginning. "Any other family?"

"Your father is dead." He couldn't see Kili's face very well in the gray light, but could sense a slight deflation. "But your mother, my sister, is still on this earth, living in the Blue Mountains." Now the prince seemed distressed, his breathing audible. "And you have a brother. Fili. He is with us, in the Company." He could hear Fili's muffled shouts from below. "I can fetch him if you would-"

"Don't!" Kili shook his head. "I will only speak to you. Which one is he?" Thorin was almost shaking now, as the conversation began to roll over him like the waves of the river itself.

"He is fair-haired, with bright eyes and a beard similar to mine." Kili paused.

"The one with the braided mustache?" The king was taken aback by such an odd question, but didn't allow himself to stutter.

"Yes?"

"An unfortunate choice. What is it with you dwarves and your hair? The braids, the beads, it all seems a little…" He wasn't looking at Thorin anymore, rather back at the stretch of river they had already traveled. Thorin could see him clearer now, and his dark eyes were wide, reluctance obvious. "I am afraid our time is up, Master Dwarf. Back into the barrel you go." He moved only a step forwards, when Kili pulled the lever, letting the dwarves and hobbit below spill out into the next section, one that was roaring with rapids. Before Thorin could say anything, even a goodbye, his nephew was sprinting back towards shouts of elves and unearthly screeches and yelling. The dwarf's mind barely registered "orc" as he dropped back into his barrel and was sucked back into the conflicting currents of the river.

It wasn't so bad the second time. He was choking on the water and his mind was fuzzy, but Thorin did not topple over, and he could see the others up ahead. It was all a blur: water, hair, trees, light, and a never-ending smear of colors. He almost felt dizzy, both by the conversation that had just ended, the arrival of the elves, orcs, and the adventure again, With so much going on, he should have felt fulfilled, and was instead left hollow.

The rapids flattened out again, and though the other dwarves were shouting at him, questions, some about Kili, others about the path the river would take them, Thorin turned back, just in time to see the siege of orcs take over the gate where they had just been trapped. Around them the elves were sliding, almost dancing as they fought. Kili was easily recognizable by his clothing and stature, and he was able to notice both the pale-eyed son of Thranduil, and the red-haired guard captain. He was also able to notice that the elves would not be able to hold the orcs much longer, some of them, including his nephew, running ahead to stop the next surge. Kili was swinging through the trees, a bow now in hand as he took down orc after orc.

"Thorin!" The scream was urgent, making him collide with reality as he turned back to his group. Ori's scream had an obvious source, as a team of orcs slunk out of the forest at a bend up ahead. They were armed to the teeth, swords, axes, scythes, all crude and cruel looking. Thorin longed to have his sword back in his hands, any weapon for that matter. One half of his mind told him he had fought orcs with close to nothing before, the other telling him to duck, as one raised their arms and sent an axe flying directly at him.

It landed short, splashing in the water, just close enough so Thorin could fish it out of the water gripping its gnarled handle within his hands. He could fight with this. The axe returned to its owner, though instead of landing in the orc's hands, it buried itself in its chest.

More weapons were falling into the water as they rounded the bend, the elves catching up now. Thorin knew they could at least fight on one-side for this. While the dwarves and elves hated each other, they hated orcs far more. The adrenaline of the fight was picking up now, the elves taking down the monsters with arrows, the dwarves doing all they could from the river as it led them onward as a brisk pace. There was light now, enough to see your targets apart from allies, a blessing Thorin was grateful for.

He had his hands on a sword when he heard the exclamation: Fili shouting his brother's name. Thorin's head whipped to see the younger dwarf with one arm outstretched, the barrel almost tipping over. His eyes almost automatically traveled to see a grotesque orc standing, the string of his twisted bow drawn taught, the arrow loaded in and aimed at the dwarf that slipped through the trees. Kili paused for a moment at hearing his brother cry out, distracted. It was if Thorin's heart was slowing to a halt as he heard the string release and saw the flash of black across the gold and green robes. Fili shouted something intelligible as Kili stumbled, his hands releasing his own weapons and clutching his side, the area from which dark blood splattered on the rocks. He toppled from the trees, landing hard on his shoulder and crashing into the chaos of white waves.

**AN: So sorry I missed an update day. Life claimed me back and I was super-busy. Hopefully I will get up another chapter tomorrow to make up for it (hopefully). Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the latest update of this little story. I have finally outlined the majority of it, and I am so excited to write it all! If you want to get notified for when I do end up posting the new chapters, follow the story. Also, as always, I love hearing what you guys think, so please leave a review! Until next time…**


	6. He and the Bright Blue Sky

**He and The Bright Blue Sky**

Kili was sure that he should have been in pain. He had seen the blood, seen the arrow, felt the fall. He knew that something should have been in a varying degree of torturous hurt, yet he simply found that his skin seemed to pulsating, throbbing. Ever since he was a child, he had known that there was something about his body that differed with the surrounding elves, beginning with the time Legolas had playfully shoved him and he tumbled down the stairs.

_"Why is my arm bent like that?"_

Now it seemed almost comical, as Kili remembered the look on the elven prince's face as he used his other hand to support the twisted appendage. It had turned out later that not only was the arm broken, but he had also cracked a rib. Thranduil had been with him while the healer wrapped his torso and put the arm in a splint. Kili had been crying.

_"Does it hurt?" Kili shook his head._

_ "No. It feels fine." Thranduil's brow creased with worry._

_ "Then why are you crying?"_

_ "Because it should hurt."_

And there he was again, knowing that his body should be on fire, but instead felt oddly warm. The healers had claimed that his lack of ability to feel pain above a simple ache was due to shock, but he had never been so sure. A strange muffled voice was speaking over his thoughts now, and Kili only just began to wonder where he was, in the memory or in darkness, when his eyes snapped open, blinking rapidly in the bright sunlight. He could barely make out the figures of people, loud voices, and the rushing roar of moving water. Kili was wet, he realized as the sopping sensation returned to him. However, he still felt nothing out of the ordinary in the rest of his body.

"You have to do something!"

"If any bones in his arm are broken, popping it back in could cripple it for the rest of his life. Do you want me to take the chance?" That caught his attention. Things were coming back into focus now, a melee of faces, bearded faces. The closest one was a dwarf with a thick gray beard and squinted critical eyes. He was so alarmingly close that Kili flinched, catching the attention of the rest of them.

"He's awake!" Kili felt a hand on his shoulder, his breath catching his throat as he moved to look. He was lying on his back; he assumed that they had dragged him out of the water and onto the rocky shore. Yet, as he stared at the side of his body that had made contact with the ground as he fell from the tree, he knew that they hadn't saved him yet. His decorative robe had been taken off, leaving the thin cotton shirt and pants underneath it. As he looked at the part of his shoulder that was normally rounded and led to his arm, Kili instead saw a sharp edge, as the joint was completely squared off. It didn't help that the arm itself was twitching out of his control.

Without thinking he recoiled, using his functional arm to prop himself up, scuttling backwards. He made it a few feet before his torso gave out, making Kili fall flat on his back. "What did you do? Let me go!" He shouted, still trying to move further away. There was still no pain his abdomen and shoulder, but they refused to function properly, useless.

"Calm down!" It was a voice he recognized, but couldn't put a name to. Out of the Company of dwarves that had captured him he only knew Thorin, but Kili was sure the would-be king was not the one talking. The speaker soon came into view, pinning his working arm down. He was a younger dwarf with a short beard of gold hair, and many beads and braids. Kili shuddered as he and his brother were face to face for the first time in over fifty years. "We're not going to hurt you. You fell-"

"I remember that," Kili responded with gritted teeth.

"I pulled you out. You're injured. Oin's just to help if you'd let him." He stopped struggling against the dwarf, lying still.

"Where are we?" His brother looked down, before exchanging a look over his shoulder with one of the others. He seemed doubtful. "Where are we?" Kili repeated, panic growing further in his chest.

"Your shoulder is dislocated. Oin has to pop it back in before any other damage to the joint happens. It's going to hurt." At these words, Kili almost laughed but instead shook himself again, attempting to get free long enough to make an escape. No such luck.

"And if my arm's broken? I heard what he said!" His brother face melted for a moment, the edge taken out of the way he carried himself.

"Everything's going to be fine Kee, I promise." Kili's entire body went numb. He was barely aware as the healer took his place to push his arm back into its rightful socket.

_"Everything's going to be fine Kee, I promise."_

_ "Easy for you to say. He likes you."_

_ "What's that supposed to mean?"_

_ "Uncle already treats my birthday like a funeral Fili. When I show him the bow he's going to go crazy."_

_ "He's not going to get upset over something so stupid. Trust me."_

_ "Sure."_

_ "I mean it."_

_ "You always do." _

"Kili!" A hand was waving over his face as his vision came back into focus. It was the gray-bearded healer again. "Are you all right?" Kili groaned, closing his eyes for a second.

"I'm fine." Oin took his arm for further examination, and the dwarf prince could see that his shoulder was back to its normal position. Fili was nowhere to be seen, however, Thorin neither. He could the others talking in hushed voices somewhere closer to the water, as the roaring water washed away their words.

"You're lucky here, laddie. I don't think anything's broken." Oin let go of his arm, letting it fall back onto the slick stone. "Does it hurt?"

"No. Nothing does." The dwarf made a quizzical expression, before prodding the joint that had just been separated with his pointer finger.

"Feel anything?" Kili bit his lip, focusing on the sky instead of the healer. The sun had risen, and the sky was a crystal blue, with a few feathery clouds in his view. With such weather, he would usually be enjoying himself, but considering the circumstances, Kili was far from happy.

"Ow," he mumbled unconvincingly. Oin shook his head, his old face wrinkling further as it screwed up in concentration.

"Shock," the healer concluded after a moment, as he got up to his feet. Kili sighed softly, sick of this excuse that he knew wasn't quite right. "I'm going to take a look at that arrow now, lad."

"It didn't hit me," Kili tried to explain. "It skimmed."

"Oin." This was something completely recognizable: the harsh tone of Thorin Oakenshield barking orders. "The immediate problem has been fixed. Just wrap his torso and be done with it. We have to keep moving."

"If we don't get the correct view of the damage that arrow did then he could-"

"If it skimmed then we've already saved ourselves more time than I thought. However, we cannot waste our limited supply of it by doing full wound examinations. Make sure it doesn't get infected, and get him on his feet." Kili couldn't see any of them now, as Oin had walked out of his field of view. Now it was only he and the bright blue sky.

"Uncle, are you sure you want to risk that?" Fili was speaking again, and Kili could still hear the echo of that childlike voice in his words.

"Do you want to risk missing the door opening on that mountain? Do you want to risk getting run down by whatever's left of that orc pack? Do you want to risk Thranduil's people finding us again before we even get past this river?" Oin had apparently given up on this fight, helping Kili sit up as he used strips of fabric to serve as sort of bandage to cover the wound.

"No, but-"

"Then it's settled. We keep moving." Kili couldn't stop the flow of questions circulating through his brain, and finally released it.

"Why does it matter?" he blurted. "I'll be going to Thranduil anyway. He has elven healers there. Just, let me go back."

"Let you go back," Thorin scoffed, as if the very notion was purely ridiculous. "You're coming with us." Kili felt as though he had fallen off the tree again, and into the river. But this time, he didn't think anyone would have the courtesy to pull him out again.

"No, I will not be. I can make my own decisions, and though I thank you for saving my life, I will not be dragged around on your little treasure hunt." Thorin's blue eyes narrowed. Despite the odd resemblance that his irises bore to Thranduil's Kili was terrified. There was no longer a serious and melancholy-look to them, rather a warning and dangerous glint that sent a shiver up his spine. His memories had been lost, but he was sure that he had seen Thorin like this before.

"And I will not have my nephew playing make believe with a group of elves while he denies his own race and family." Kili pushed Oin away, forcing himself to get to his feet.

"You are not my family, though your blood runs in my veins. I have spent more than half of my lifetime with the elves, and they raised me up from nothing. I do not remember or care what you ever did for me, Thorin, but from what I know of your character it was most likely very little. You cannot just let me disappear for fifty years and waltz back into my life like nothing has ever changed, expecting I will leave my world behind for dwarves I don't know. I am not your piece of treasure you can just lay claim to and hoard for the rest of your life. I get to decide where I go and what I do. You're not taking that away from me." Fili's face crumbled, his mouth slightly open and eyes glassy. He nodded, as if he knew such remarks were coming, but had not foreseen the blow they would deal. Thorin on the other hand, showed no change in any sort of emotion, his face still critical and hard. Still, Kili saw he seemed to be almost vibrating from rage.

"Thranduil is no more your family than an orc is mine. That leech took you in to raise you as a bargaining chip and insult to me, no other reason. He has prepped you to do as much damage as possible to my kin and I, and if you ever truly believed he cared for you than you are more of a fool than I took you for." Kili was drowning now, his heartbeat the only noise he could feel exiting his body in the place of a rebuke.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," came a sarcastic voice from a higher formation of rocks. Kili jumped slightly, before catching the appearance of the tall and dark-haired man with the bow and arrow. In spite of himself, he grinned, walking towards the man with a hand outstretched.

"Bard," he called. "About time our paths crossed again."

**AN: So, that was that! Sorry for the long update time again. By looking into my crystal ball (calendar) I can see that updating this in a timely fashion is going to be difficult. However, I remain determined to stick to my schedule as much as possible. Hopefully I can get some makeup days and post two chapters in two days or something. Anyway, thanks for reading my little story. I hope you enjoyed this most recent installment. If you want to get notified for when the next chapter comes out, follow this story. And, as usual, I love hearing from you guys, what you thought, comments questions, etc. so leave a review if you fancy. Until next time…**


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